


Temporary Fix

by chinesebakery



Category: Lost Girl
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Love Triangles, Rival Relationship, Romance, Season/Series 02, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-10
Updated: 2015-11-30
Packaged: 2018-04-25 17:41:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4970248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chinesebakery/pseuds/chinesebakery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During Dyson's darkest hours, Kenzi is determined to show him he can count on her. And not only because she's been harboring a major crush on him. Season 2 story. Dyson/Kenzi with mentions of Bo/Dyson, Bo/Lauren, Bo/Ryan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It stings.

"I've got you under my skin where the rain can't get in."  
– The The

I. It stings.

In theory, Kenzi was all in favor of her Bo having her socks rocked off her feet. And restoring her kickass self to full capactity while she was at it? Always a welcome bonus. Really, she was cool with all of it. But as much as she didn't want her BFF to bleed out on the rug or literally die of sexual frustration, the whole mess of a situation was driving Kenzi one hundred percent certifiable faster than…

"Ooooooh." An indistinct moan – Bo's or Dyson's? Both of them in perfect harmony? So compatible, those two – interrupted whatever thought process she was still capable of holding in such a hostile home environment.

As fond as she had grown of the derelict building she and Bo called home, there was no denying its soundproofing left _much_ to be desired. And lately, she had been given the opportunity to verify that fact with alarming regularity.

Kenzi readjusted her headphones and cranked the volume up to ten. No improvement whatsoever. Maybe she should take up knitting or something. Any activity that might distract her from the sound of her roomie riding their mutual friend like a prize pony had the potential to vastly improve her evenings and weekends.

She picked up the book she had dumped on the couch moments earlier, only to find herself reading the same sentence again and again. Damn. Did they really need to be so loud?

  
***

It bothered her more than she cared to admit.

Not needing to know _that_ much about her bestie was certainly a part of it, although if she was honest with herself, it had more than a little something to do with who she was rodeoing with.

Ever since she had walked in on Dyson, half-naked and entirely edible, the morning after his first night with Bo, she had been reluctantly intrigued. To her dismay, it was only worsening the better she got to know him, furry side and all. And now, she was gaining second-hand knowledge of his groans and moans and various assorted sexy-times sounds. Not awkward at all.

It wasn't that she wanted to have his wolf puppies or anything. She wasn't so blinded by lust or whatever that she hadn't noticed he could be a class A prick, as well as an inconsiderate manwhore. What did it say about her daddy issues that it kind of turned her on?

Kenzi may have been a con artist, but she had some principles -- some rules were meant to be broken, while others were paramount. If, of all the available chi-snacks, Bo's peculiar appetite was set on Dyson, then that was the end of it. His luscious lower abs were off limits entirely.

  
***

A loud thud came from the spot located precisely above Kenzi's head, making her start. Faint laughter followed, before the rhythmical torture resumed, even closer and noisier now they were going at it on the floor. Some white dust fell off from the ceiling like it only did in cartoons, ruining Kenzi's coffee in the process.

_Seriously?_

Why couldn't Bo go to the E.R. like a normal person just _once_?

Kenzi regretted that thought the moment it finished forming inside her head. Bo was in pain, she needed help, and as it turned out, help came in the form of the naked favors of a man Kenzi wouldn't mind getting some sexual healing from herself.

She would get over it. Eventually.

She looked around and found a discarded magazine. Any advice on the proper etiquette of lusting after your succubus best friend's oblivious main squeeze? No? Figures.

Kenzi cringed and covered her ears as the moans grew louder and louder.

  
***

When Bo joined her in the living room, wearing only her kimono and looking satisfied and radiant, there were no traces of the nasty cuts that were defacing her body mere hours earlier, courtesy of some knife-clawed creature that would surely proceed to haunt both of their nightmares.

"All good?" Kenzi asked, not quite meeting her eyes. "Did the magic dick do the trick?"

"Yes," Bo trailed voluptuously, pouring herself a glass of water. "I'm all fixed up," she added, turning around theatrically.

Kenzi forced a smile. She knew Bo didn't flaunt, boast, or brag. If anything, Kenzi was the one at fault.

"You didn't put wolfman in a coma, did you?"

"He'll live," Bo grinned. "He's resting. For now... " she trailed.

"Dude, don't kill the medicine. You never know when you might need it. Migraines… Broken toes…"

"Edward Scissorhands?"

"Yes. Exactly," Kenzi agreed, pointing her finger in Bo's direction.

  
***

When Dyson finally joined them, with his shirt draped over his arm, Kenzi spotted fresh scratches all over his lean back. All that playing doctor with Bo was definitely taking its toll. His cheeks were a bit hollower than before they started boinking. Dark circles had formed under his eyes. He looked exhausted, drained.

Not that Bo would ever notice. But Kenzi did, as much as she wished she didn't, and it did funny things to her. Gave her bizarre urges. She wanted to take care of him. Scratch his fur while he slept with his head in her lap like a good Doggy. Dress his wounds, kiss them better. Sponge-bathe him, if necessary.

He and Hale had taken to jokingly call her "Mama", but all those impulses didn't feel very motherly to her. There were ludicrous, absurd, and oh-so-very wrong. But motherly? Nope.

Without a word, Dyson kissed Bo's temple and shrugged on his shirt, barely acknowledging Kenzi’s presence.

For as long as she could remember, Kenzi had been one to get what she wanted. When it wasn't given to her, she took it. She had never been in that situation in her entire adult life -- having someone else's needs matter more than hers. Her friendship with Bo was of the life-altering variety, and she cherished it above all else. She could play second-fiddle to Bo, no problem.

Still, it stinged.

"Dang, did I forget to take off my invisibility cape _again_? Phew. So light and comfortable, that thing."

"Night, Kenz," he said over his shoulder with a half-smile. An afterthought, once more.

"So what, D-man, no jammy party tonight?" she called after him. "Our joint's not classy enough for you?"


	2. It bleeds.

It was a pain she wasn't entitled to feel, a treason that wasn't hers to agonize over. She couldn't talk about it, wouldn't even try putting it into words. The mere concept of that felt too dangerous to even consider. Whatever it was she felt, she made a point of burying as deep as it would go.

Bo was suffering, and it was a hideous thing to witness. She was a ball of light, her Bo, and no one was allowed to dim her shine. 

Dyson wasn't himself anymore. There had always been a darkness to him, but when the Norn had dug into him, she had pulled him inside out and reset him in such a way that nothing could keep the shadows away anymore.

When their paths crossed again, he was cold and aloof, indifferent to Bo's anguish, looking right through Kenzi. Soon enough – too soon – he took to parading a string of conquests at the Dal. That little straw thoroughly julienned the proverbial camel's back.

So, yes, maybe summoning Baba Yaga on his ass had been an idiotic move -- Kenzi was willing to acknowledge that much. People did all kinds of dumb shit when they were in pain, didn't they? And Kenzi was hurting badly. On behalf of Bo, of course. Anything for Bo.

He had forgiven her, or so he said. They were on speaking terms, at any rate, although if the conversation ever digressed from shop talk, they rarely exchanged anything but platitudes.

It was all very cordial. Yet it felt as if she had lost much more than her best friend's lover.

  
***

Everything changed after the Night of the Body Swappers.

Which had been an interesting event, as life-threatening paranormal adventures went. Maybe they should make that a regular occurrence. Find themselves a gorgon pal with some magic blood to spare, throw some kooky meat-suit parties to spice up a dull weekend. Just an idea.

Knowing what Dyson had been forced to sacrifice was one thing. Experiencing it first hand, spending time in his skin, being directly plugged into his emotions, came with a brand new perspective on All Things Wolfie. 

She felt the sorrow, the despair, the emptiness that made everything seem so insignificant to him now.

She saw Bo through his eyes, felt the missing pieces there. How harrowing it was, knowing what it _should_ feel to be near her and finding that replaced with a great big void.

She knew how sincerely he wanted to return Ciara's feelings, but couldn't.

It was seriously fucked up, what had been done to him. Before long, she'd have to have a word with that Norn person and tell her a piece of her mind.

The most troubling for Kenzi, perhaps, was to see herself from his perspective. There was tenderness, no real surprise there, but it was all tangled up with a lot of ambivalent stuff. Affection and annoyance, trust and overbearing protectiveness… lust, too, with a fair share of guilt. Even when she was standing next to her succubus BFF, he noticed the barely-there skirts, the necklines down-to-there, the impossibly high heels.

More disturbingly, he was also aware of her silent pining for him, had been so for a long time. It amused him as much as it pleased him. And for a few hours that night, Dyson had enjoyed a high speed landline to her very private self, her repressed urges, her fantasies. 

In the weeks that followed, Kenzi deliberately avoided the Dal. Her mortification was amplifying over time, driving her to bypass a well-deserved beer – or three – after a hard day's work. 

  
***

Two weeks had passed since The Incident and although Kenzi couldn't shake away how embarrassed and exposed she felt, her avoidance strategy was proving harder to enforce with each passing day. She had been sitting alone at the bar for all of two minutes after Bo's departure – some late "work" session with the Doc, again – when Dyson sat beside her. 

"You can't ignore me forever, Kenz," he said, looking ahead. She mimicked him, focusing on Trick's liquor selection.

"Uh, sure I can. Just watch me," she said, throwing her bag's strap over her shoulder. He stopped her with a hand on her wrist.

"Come on. Stay. We should talk."

"Don't you have anything better to do than pestering a poor little human? Where's your sugar mama?"

"We broke up. She deserved better. More than I have to give, anyway."

"Oh." Their eyes finally met, but didn't hold for long. "Sorry, I guess."

"Yeah," he sighed. 

"What do you want from me, Dyson? Really?"

"I wanted to tell you I'm... grateful. That you kept my secrets."

"Yeah, no problem," she said, and patted his arm before jumping off her stool.

"I've kept yours as well," he said quietly.

With a theatrical sigh, she sat back down. 

"What is this, a game of Truth or Dare? I choose 'dare'. Always, always 'dare'."

"Why am I not surprised?"

"You know, when you said you had 'lost your passion for her', I thought it meant you couldn't get it up." 

When he only gave her a warning look, she started rambling. 

"Look, I'm sorry this happened to you. I've seen it. I've felt it. I don't know how you deal with that, like, every hour of every day. I mean, you could be a little less of a dick about it, but I'll give you a pass because it blows to epic proportions. And whatever I… Whatever you think you know about me, it doesn't matter. I'm just the meek little human sidekick. You're Bo's obnoxious ex. Nothing to see here."

"Don't do that. You may be human, but you're a force to be reckoned with."

"Damn right, I am."

"I've missed you, you know. Not just Bo. You too."

She hadn't realized how much she needed to hear that from him, after all those weeks pretending she could switch off caring about him. 

"I've missed you too, furball," she admitted, bumping her shoulder against his. 

Kenzi turned to study his face and noticed for the first time how sallow he looked, as if he hadn't slept for days. She was aware of the mounting tension between him and Hale. The siren was growing very loquacious about Dyson's social shortcomings and erratic conduct on the job, but Kenzi was beginning to wonder if Hale wasn't downplaying the situation somehow.

"Are you okay?" she asked, cupping his cheek. "Really?" 

Dyson was a rock, and anchor. Always there to save her when she needed to be. It wasn't like him to waver. If he could break, what chance did people like her stand to stay whole?

He smiled bitterly before emptying his beer. 

"I could use a friend."

"I'm sorry, D-man," she said as her arms hooked around his neck. He smelled good, something piney that made her wonder if it was from aftershave or some alone time in the wild.

It didn't take much to tower over her, but there was a primal satisfaction to being wrapped in the arms of a big, strong man. In fact, it felt so good she didn't care to tell him that he held her too hard and she could hardly breathe.


	3. It burns.

Nothing changed much. Not in any way that mattered. On the surface, they were merely closer friends than before. And although everyone pretended not to notice, there was an undercurrent of something between them that Kenzi just wouldn't dig into.

It was a beer shared from the same glass in a quiet corner while Bo's birthday party raged on. Or casual touches, thigh against thigh, while they sat at the Dal with Bo and Hale. Conspiratorial looks whenever Ryan – Bo's über-douche of a new piece – showed his face or when the Doc drama heated up again.

She would sit on his desk at the station after hours when she needed fae intel, and feel way too pleased to find him glancing insistently up her legs. And whenever he left the Dal with yet another companionable-looking female, who could as well be nameless and faceless for all the attention he seemed to be paying them, he made a point of looking at her squarely on his way out.

_Dare you to do something. Anything._

  
***

It was the Garuda, Kenzi kept telling herself. All the faes were being affected by the beast's vibes of doom and gloom, clashing and bitching when they should be banding together. Surely the monster's influence played a part in Dyson's increasingly messed up behavior.

But not everyone was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. The night after the whole Cherufe fiasco, Hale, Kenzi's boyfriend-for-the evening, stayed over to share a well-deserved celebratory glass of wine with her and Bo. His assessment of the situation was quite bleak.

"Don't bet on Dyson," Hale said as they counted their allies. " Besides, I wouldn't fight at his side anyway. Not anymore."

Kenzi wanted to argue, but couldn't find anything to say that didn't sound like a deflection.

She hadn't been particularly pleased to learn that Dyson was busy getting his freak on with Hale's sister while she was narrowly escaping being charcoal-broiled, but she wasn't even remotely? ready to give up on him yet.

"Well, _I_ would," she finally said, as her dejection turned into irritation. "I definitely would fight at his side. I'd have his back, even. Is that going to be a problem?"

"Kenzi..."

"I think I need some air," she announced, only half-lying.

She got to her feet, pulling her too-tight lamé dress in place as gracefully as she could – that thing wasn't designed to sit or breathe in – and determined she was just the right amount of pissed off to face an antagonistic wolf-man. Fae-apocalypse was upon them, it was time to go about it head on. Dyson’s hotheadedness was looking more and more like a bona fide death wish, and she was _through_ watching him from the sideline.

  
***

Kenzi had been banging on his door with the subtlety of a battering ram for a solid minute when he finally deigned to open the door.

He looked her up and down with a disdainfully raised eyebrow and it was all she could do not to huff and stomp with frustration. A sparkle of humor gleamed in his eyes for just a moment before it disappeared. She pushed passed him more forcefully than was strictly necessary and turned to stare at him, her arms crossed over her chest.

Dyson's bleak gym-turned-loft looked sinister as ever, very torture-porn chic.

There was a fresh bruise high on his check, courtesy of Hale. He had been getting in a lot of fights lately, but being punched in the face by his best friend was surely a new low.

"Does your boyfriend know you're here?"

"Hale? No, I don't think so. If he did, he'd say I’m just wasting my time."

"That's cop instinct talking. You should pay attention."

"Could you maybe pause the jackass mode for a minute and try to have an actual conversation?"

He mockingly waved her to proceed. Kenzi uncrossed her arms, wishing her hands would stop shaking.

 _"_ You want to pretend I'm just the tiny human pet with the hair and the clothes and the glorious, _glorious_ boots? Suit yourself. I've been dealing with people not taking me seriously my entire life. But I notice things. I _know_ things. And I know what's going on with you. You keep being a complete asshole to Hale and pushing away all the few friends you have left. It's like you don't know your place in the world and everybody's gotta pay for that. But you know what? It's not the end of the world. A lot of humans spend a major chunk of their lives wondering what the hell they're supposed to do with their time here and most of them soldier through their existential crisis without being such massive pricks to their besties. What do you suppose is gonna happen, uh? You think we're gonna let you brood to death?"

"Are you done?"

"Not quite, but feel free to jump in any time."

"Look, I know you mean well…"

"Uh, are you operating under the impression that I'm not _epically_ mad at you already?"

"... but you have no beef in this thing. Your best option is to pack your things and go about your life. Find a little human boyfriend or whatever makes you happy. Live a normal life, away from the fae."

"You're a freaking idiot, you know that?" She took a step closer so she could shove him backwards with all her strength. "How long do you plan to have a sulk and feel sorry for yourself?"

“What's holding you back, do you even know? Maybe you really need to be owned, after all.” He shoved her back. There wasn't much force to it, but enough for her to almost lose her balance and audibly huff.

_Okay, then. We're done playing nice._

She slapped him hard on his already marked cheek. Despite the instant burn spreading across her fingers, she was about to strike him again when his hand suddenly wrapped around her neck. And then, just as suddenly, his mouth was on hers.

She had thought about kissing him before, of course. Dyson himself knew that only too well. But of all the scenarios that had run through her head, she had never imagined that when it finally happened, they would be so absolutely furious with one another, or that it would translate to instant, imperious lust.

She had never known a first kiss like that. There was nothing gentle or polished about it. He seemed about ready to devour her. She might have been offended, if the circumstances were different.

She pulled his annoyingly perfect hair when he bit the thin skin of her neck.

When he found the zipper of her dress, she shook it off and kicked it away along with her heels. His hands were everywhere, as desperate as she felt. She almost screamed when he pinched her nipple, not too gently. She couldn't remember being so turned on in her entire life.

Too bad he wasn't wearing one of those silly vests she'd been dreaming to tear off him for ages. She found his belt and unbuckled it with frantic hands instead.

To make up for their height difference, she wrapped a leg around him. He promptly grabbed her ass to haul her up against the wall. Not touching the floor now, all she could do was hold onto him as he pushed inside her, at long last, a craving finally fulfilled.

  
***

When Dyson finally woke up, Kenzi was almost fully dressed and altogether panicky. It was almost dawn and all she could think about was getting home before Bo got up and noticed her absence. She certainly didn't want to be caught creeping back home in that ridiculous dress.

"Morning," he said, and watched her cautiously as she walked around in a mad quest to find a missing stiletto, her evening gown gaping in the back.

"I don't suppose you'd volunteer to make breakfast?" he tried again.

When Dyson sat up, rubbing his face, the sheet gathered at his waist and for half a second, Kenzi contemplated the possibility of a quick round 2. Damn, he looked good. _Focus on your escape plan, girl._

"Zip me up," she demanded. Better keep her back to him to avoid temptation. She stepped away the moment his hands started wandering.

"You, uh, need a lift?" he asked, his voice gruff.

"Y-yeah," she forced a chuckle. "That would be easy enough to explain."

God, she probably looked like a washed out emo panda. And her hair. Better not think about the hair. Where was that damn second shoe? Screw it, she could go barefoot.

"Bo can never know," she said.

She glanced his way just long enough to catch his nod.


	4. It itches.

For a professional con woman, Kenzi was terrible at keeping secrets. Always had been. Lying through her teeth to a mark was one thing, but she wasn't wired to keep anything from Bo. Which was unfortunate, given her current predicament. Breakfast that morning was a tense and uncomfortable affair.  
  
"What bug bit your ass last night?" Bo finally asked, irritated. "First you take off like you're on fire,  _again_ , and now you're all… squirmy."  
  
"I can assure you no one bit my ass."  
  
"Well, that's a comfort."   
  
"It's nothing, I'm just, you know. Traumatized. By the Cherufe. Close call and all. Very scary stuff," Kenzi said around a mouthful of toast.  
  
"Oh, Kenz, I'm sorry." Bo sighed, grabbing her friend's hand. "I didn't mean to be a bitch. Do you want to talk about it?"  
  
"No need. I'm okay, really. A little spooked, is all."  
  
"But fortunately, still uncooked," she grinned. "You would tell me if it was more than that, right?"  
  
"Of course. Rule n°1 in the Best Friends Forever manual. And you know how seriously I take rules."  
  
"Okay," Bo sighed, looking unconvinced. "Are you sure there's nothing else going on? Maybe we need a girls night in. It's been forever since we've had one..."  
  
"...what with all that super-villain vanquishing going on," Kenzi supplied. "Don't worry, Bo-Bo. Go save the world. I'm fine."

  
***

  
"There you are," Dyson said grimly as he sat beside her at the bar.   
  
It had been mere hours since she had left his bed, not even a full day, a fact she was acutely aware of. Since the very morning, she had been craving a stiff drink. None of the meager sidekick tasks she'd accomplished had taken her minds off the issue at hand.  
  
As much as she wanted to believe that the previous night had been a slip – a  _one-time_  slip – his presence troubled her. From the moment she fled his loft, she had been assailed with flashes of the previous night, memories that made her cheeks burn with both pleasure and shame.  
  
"You sure seemed to be in a hurry this morning. Did you suddenly remember leaving the oven on?"  
  
"Worse. I was sensing a bad hair day coming. Wouldn't want to burden you with that."  
  
He made a show of surveying her perfectly arranged locks and found not a hair out of place, as usual.  
  
"Dreadful. Thank you for sparing me the horror."  
  
"Hey, you know me. Always looking out for a friend."  
  
"Friend, uh?" Dyson raised a dramatic eyebrow, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Is this a subtle way of letting me down easy?"  
  
"Oh puhlease," she scoffed. "You know I don't do subtle."  
  
"How could you? You're only human."  
  
"Hey, that's racist! And don't even think about telling me some of your best friends are humans."  
  
"Well, I wouldn't say 'best friends'. 'Smallest' would be more accurate. 'Most aggravating', maybe."  
  
A current passed between them as they grinned at each other, something like a bond that went undeniably beyond friendship and demanded recognition.  
  
"Oh, no," she exclaimed. "No, no, no, no. Don't even."  
  
"At the risk of sounding like a dick, that's not what I remember you saying last night."  
  
"Look, I understand," she said, resting a placating hand on his knee. "Now you've tasted the special magic that is The Kenz, you're craving for more. It's only natural. No one could blame you, really. But there's not going to be an encore. My best pal wouldn't approve, not to mention that you're…"  
  
"Damaged goods?"  
  
"I favor the terms 'emotionally unavailable'. It's classier, you see."  
  
"Alright," he conceded. "And yet, not a problem for what I have in mind."  
  
"Dyson," she whined, her head falling backwards. "This is such a bad idea."  
  
He gave her a moment, searching her face for a genuine reaction beyond her usual dramatics.  
  
"Tell me you don't want to and I'll leave it alone," he said, serious again. "If you're not interested, I'll never mention it again. I promise. All you have to do is mean it."  
  
"I... don't want to?"  
  
“You realize thwarting liars is in my job description, right?”  
  
Kenzi shrugged, emptying her drink. “And in my line of work, being a little creative with the truth is kind of a requisite.”  
  
“Do you really regret what happened?” he asked, suddenly concerned.  
  
“I should.”  
  
“That's not what I asked.”  
  
"I… need another drink."

  
***

  
"I don't regret it," Kenzi admitted after downing her shot in silence. She shrugged with fake casualness, carefully choosing her non-committing words. "It wasn't an unpleasant experience."  
  
"Thank you," he chuckled. "You're too kind."  
  
"You know what I mean."  
  
"Do I?"  
  
"I may not have sexytime superpowers but don't you dare pretend I didn't rock your world, too."  
  
"I won't deny it was… an unexpectedly fine night."  
  
"Unexpectedly!?" She scoffed, barely refraining from elbowing his ribs.  
  
He grinned at the magnitude of her outrage and she couldn't help but do the same, instantly disarmed by the warmth of his smile. Her eyes trailed down his face to rest on his mouth.  _Uh oh._  
  
When their gazes met again, his face had grown tense and eager, but he remained perfectly still. Whatever happened next was her move to make. Of its own accord, her face inched closer to his. There it was again, just a breath away. The thrill of succumbing to what she shouldn't want, but desperately did.  
  
She drew closer still to murmur to his ear, "Not here."

  
***

  
The moment the door closed on the two of them, they were all over each other. Hungry kisses that went on forever, roaming hands, his beard rough against the delicate skin of her neck.  
  
He was searching blindly for the hem of her miniskirt, pulling at her fishnet tights until they ripped so he could feel her skin. Her breath caught.  
  
She felt more drunk that she was. The last time she had been at his place – a whole twenty hours ago – she had been bundled up in an evening dress and debutante updo that allowed her to feel like she was play-acting somehow. Tonight she was just regular old Kenzi, hampered with a stupid itch that demanded scratching.  
  
"Bed," she breathed against his lips, her wits evading her. "Now."  
  
When he bent down to catch her legs and carry her, she recoiled.  
  
"Hey," she grumbled, miffed. "I may be flexible but I'm  _not_  a rag doll."  
  
The last thing she wanted to feel was helpless, overwhelmed by his strength. She was more than aware that he was bigger, tougher, older.  _Fae_. The power balance between them was all messed up. Maybe some day she and the Doc should get helplessly drunk and dish about it.  
  
They staggered around the loft, still entwined and reluctant to break their searing, wet kisses, until the back of her knees hit the edge of the mattress. He pulled her down with him.  
  
It was different than their previous encounter, more intimate. She wasn't even mad at him, for a change. She pushed him down and straddled him, hoping to feel more in control, only to find herself enthralled once more.   
  
She tried to make the most of it, to memorize everything she might want to remember later, the scent of his skin, the feel of his spectacular torso, the sound of his voice muffled in her neck. Just in case.

  
***

  
Kenzi waited for Dyson’s breathing to slow down in slumber to gawk at him the way she longed to. With his eyes closed and his features relaxed, his pretty face didn't seem so haunted. He looked so normal. Harmless.  
  
What would he be if he wasn't a wolf? With a personality as volatile as his, polite society would be a hard fit. Yet he had surprised her with his ease to maneuver in crummy fae politics.  _Still, no investment banking for you, furball._  
  
Some sense of masochistic curiosity had her wondering about he and a certain succubus. She had heard them often enough to know things had been pretty wild between them. Did he ever think about Bo when he was with her? It wouldn't be fair, now, would it? How could she possibly compare to Bo's mojo?  _Ugh. Time to jump on a different train of thoughts_.  
  
"I'm still awake, you know?"  
  
"Can't be," she informed him. "I exhausted you."  
  
"You sure about that?" He pulled her against him until their entire bodies touched.   
  
"Interesting," she said, pushing her hips against his. "You know, they should sell powdered fae to middle-aged humans. Would make a fortune."

  
***

  
When Kenzi woke up, early morning light was shining through the dirty windows of the loft, and a delectable coffee scent was floating around the room.  
  
Dyson was already dressed and seemingly ready to go.  
  
"In a hurry?" she yawned.  
  
"The Ash wants me. Something about an Under Fae that needs interrogating."  
  
"Playing bad cop this early in the morning? Tough gig."  
  
"It's what I do."  
  
Dyson went to sit beside her on the bed, a smoking coffee mug in his hand. She seized it with a grateful smile. He watched her silently for a minute and she wondered if it was as strange for him as it was for her, having her naked and languid, sipping coffee in his bed.  
  
"You're gonna be okay to go home?"  
  
"Yes, Daddy."  
  
"Now you're just trying to turn me on," he smirked as Kenzi swatted his shoulder.  
  
 _I could get used to this_ , she thought, and immediately regretted it.  
  
The next moment, she felt a sudden apprehension she couldn't explain to herself.  
  
"That Under Fae business, it's not dangerous, right?"   
  
"Don't worry," he said. He seemed to hesitate for a minute before leaning to kiss her temple. "Just another day at the office."  
  
"Right, except it never is with you people. Be careful, okay? I have a weird feeling about today."  
    
As she watched him leave, the sentiment of vague alarm rapidly grew, building to the point she considered sharing it with her best friend and mystery-solving partner. If only she could.


	5. It scars.

For most of the following day, Kenzi thought the foreboding had been Bo-related all along. It had been a close call, Bo getting irremediably itched with Whatshisface for all eternity, but the catastrophe had been narrowly avoided and the feeling of imminent disaster remained.

Dyson, who had not picked up the phone all day, was a no-show at the Dal. Trick hadn't seen him all day, neither had Bo. Hale only shrugged when she asked him about his former partner. 

While they didn't get a chance to plan anything, be it a beer or a continuation of their tawdry whatever, she had expected to seem him anyway. He spent most of his evenings drinking down the place, after all, and after those past two nights, she thought… It didn't matter what she had thought.

His cell kept ringing and ringing before switching to voice mail while her sense of unease mounted hour after hour. If he was bleeding out in a ditch somewhere, she was so going to pester him to death.

A part of her, the part will all the issues –daddy, abandonment, self-esteem, you name it– kept bringing up images and theories that had little to do with an imminent danger. So much so she was reluctant to show up at the loft uninvited for fear of finding him entertaining a lady friend. Lady friends? After all, he had spent the past few months loving-and-leaving what seemed like half the female population of fae-ville. As for Kenzi… No promise had been made, he didn't owe her a thing beyond his friendship.

She had to keep her freaking cool. He was fine, probably. Only _otherwise occupied_. And if the notion twisted her gut, well, that was on her. Right?

/\/\/\

Kenzi didn't sleep much that night, tossing and turning while her mind reeled. To rein in her emotions, she concentrated on the best-case scenario: he was busy on whatever secret mission he'd been tasked with and hadn't thought to call her at all. 

They were friends. Friends who had accidently slept together, twice, but friends nonetheless. The rest was all noise. Pleasant noise. Noise she wished she didn't yearn for… but noise nonetheless. She'd have to ask Bo for a lesson on compartmentalization because things were definitely not that clean-cut with her.

 _Noise_. Dyson was definitely not on the market for a relationship, and neither was she, for that matter. They had an imminent apocalypse to worry about, after all.

/\/\/\

The next day, while Bo went to meet the Glaive – another crucial step towards the incoming battle and again, Kenzi seemed to have no place in it– she pulled herself together and reluctantly made the trip to Dyson's loft.

The first thing that hit her was that her bike was gone. Other than that, nothing looked wrong at first sight. She rang the bell long enough to wake the dead, but nothing stirred. 

Disgruntled, she tried for his cell, which went straight to voicemail this time. Was he ghosting her or running out of battery?

"Good thing I know a thing or two about picking a lock," Kenzi announced out loud, a token warning, just in case… What? Was he pranking her? It was possibly an unforgivable violation of his privacy, letting herself into his place with no prompting, but at that point she was so immensely furious at him for his failure to communicate that she didn't care one bit.

Well, the good news was he wasn't shaking up with a new conquest in there. The bad news… She looked around a bit, hesitant to touch anything of his in his absence. The loft was exactly the way she'd left it when she'd seen herself out after his departure. The bed was still the mess she'd left it in. Her mug sat in the sink, unwashed. 

/\/\/\

"No news is good news," Trick told her for the upteenth time. "If anything... significant had happened, we would know by now. Dyson's been known to need a breather from time to time. Wait it out. Or, you know. _Don't_."

"I've got nooo idea what you're blabbering about, old man," Kenzi grimaced in the general direction of her near-empty pint glass. He was sweet for keeping an eye on her – a self-appointed mission Kenzi pretended not to be unaware of– yet she couldn't bring herself to smile. 

"I think you do," Trick replied, raising a no-nonsense eyebrow.

"Yeah, well." Kenzi gulped down the rest of her beer. "I choose to ignore you, since you insist on hurting my feelings."

"Kenzi..." He sighed, unwilling to pick up where they had left off. 

The much feared-war was about to begin, yet day after day, they were pushing her away a bit further, the whole lot of them. Calling her a weak spot. A distraction. A liability. A freaking burden was what they really meant. With each well-meaning remark or advice on the best way to pack her things and run for the hills she felt a little more demeaned. Her friends –her _people_ – kept treating her like a lab puppy gamboling across their battlefield. It was so unfair! She was useful, dammit, and capable, too. Superpowerless, maybe, but resourceful. 

How could Bo, of all people, suggest she should take off and start over somewhere? They had done just that for most of their lives, the two of them. It was over now, they were home, where they should be. With their family. Hiding away while they fought the good fight was simply unthinkable. Which begged the question… Was it what Dyson was doing? Holing up and waiting for the all-clear? The thought broke her heart worse than any hook-up ever could.

/\/\/\

The night Nadia died, their lives descended further into chaos. Bo had killed before, of course, but never like this, neither for sustenance nor self-defence. She had fallen to pieces, and Kenzi was a wreck for her own selfish reasons.

From the moment Kenzi joined Bo on her frilly bed, intent on holding her tight until she cried herself out, her own tears started spilling out of their own accord like a seawall giving way. She felt more than a little ridiculous, crying in Bo's arms on this day -- of all days. Her friend was inconsolable for killing her on again, off again girlfriend's girlfriend who just happened to be possessed by an evil monster. Kenzi's crisis? Being overprotected by her pals and having the guy she wasn't even in an actual relationship with go radio-silent for a few days.

Kenzi held on to Bo and let herself be hugged back, repeating over and over to her friend's ear that she had done Nadia a kindness, freeing her from that beast. 

"I'm okay," Bo finally said, her voice shaky. 

"You're so much better than that," Kenzi affirmed heartily, earning a half-assed chuckle.

"What's wrong with you, Kenz? You didn't even say."

"Nothing. Nothing important," she amended with a shrug.

"Come on, I wanna know. Even the unimportant thing. I'm sure there's a clause about that in that secret BFF handbook you keep referring to."

"Okay," Kenzi sighed, bracing herself. "You know me, I usually only believe in fate when I find a twenty on the floor. But I _know_ I belong here with you guys. I'm not going to leave you. Whatever happens, happens. And I need you all to stop trying to get rid of me. Or at least to not be so rude about it," she added to soften the echoes of the bitterness that had been eating at her for days.

"No one wants you to go. Not really. We just need you safe. You. Are. Loved. You know that, don't you?"

"It's my decision to make, Bo-Bo. I made it a long time ago. There's no going back now."

"Okay," Bo said, putting her hand on her best friend’s cheeks. "Okay. You're part of the team. We're lucky to have you."

"Also…" Kenzi started uneasily.

Bo said nothing, urging her to continue with a small smile and an expectant look.

"Oh, boy. Here comes." Kensi clenched her eyes shut. "I think I may be just a teeny tiny bit in love with Dyson."

"Uh, what?" Bo replied, puzzled.

"It sucks way too hard to be just lust."

"Kenzi? Please rewind to 10 seconds ago."

"Dyson. I _like him_ , like him. I'm into him _that way_. I–"

"Gotcha," Bo interrupted. "Wh-When did that happen? How? Are you two a thing now?"

"Just a few days ago, rather athletically and I have no idea," Kenzi answered as fast as she could manage, peeking through her eyelids. "So, how much do you hate me?"

"I don't hate you, dummy," Bo said. "But allow me to sulk while I absorb the news."

"Please. You go all out with the sulking. I deserve it."

"Did you feel that way when he and I were together?"

"Well, I didn't find him repulsive then. Maybe there was a little crush. But frankly, I blame the gorgon blood. It all went downhill from that night."

"So, what, you took a peek at his hidden depths and, bam, you fell for him?"

"He's not _that_ deep," Kenzi joked. "But yeah, of course it changed things. It's hard to see someone as just your BFF's asshole ex with the washboard abs when you've felt all the dark stuff he's hiding. And he's got a ton of that. It sort of shook me up, you know."

"You never told me about it."

"It wasn't my place to tell," Kenzi sighed. "We bonded without meaning to. I know he was a dick and pushed everyone away, but..."

"Gorgon blood: the stuff couple therapists dreams are made of."

"Yeah, that was some pretty hardcore roleplay."

"Okay," Bo announced, grabbing Kenzi's hand. "I think I'm done sulking."

"Nuh-oh, that was a ridiculously short sulk! I broke girl code, big time. I expect my membership to be revoked any minute. And I had to lie to you. To your face! I'm so sorry, Bo. Feel free to pinch me really hard. Do you want to ruin my favorite pair of shoes with those massive feet of yours? Go ahead, I've earned it."

"Thanks, but I'll pass. We're above girl code, you and I," Bo said softly.

"C'mon, can't you at least shout a little? I've been torturing myself for days."

"I'll be over it before morning. As long as you're happy, I'm good. But don't go and get yourself hurt, okay?"

"Yeah, well." Kenzi sighed dejectedly. "I think it might be a little too late for that."

When the two of them finally slipped under Bo's silk sheets, neither of them could find sleep for a long, long time.

/\/\/\

The first offensive came as soon as the next day when Ugly, Meanie and Nasty stormed the Dal in the middle of an eventless afternoon. The three Garuda minions were on a mission to kidnap the Blood King and take him to their master. Fortunately, they had their asses handed over by Bo and Hale. On top of everything else, guarding the Dal and, more importantly, its owner, was now first priority.

"Look at us, living in a bar," Kenzi offered, slouching over a table. "Not gonna lie, I thought achieving my life goal would be more fun."

Bo was the only one to force a smile through the collective heavy mood. 

"Tough crowd, uh?" she told Trick. "No wonder you're always such a grump."

The Dal was closed to customers but the gang was on high alert. They had managed to repel the Garuda's minions this time, but what would happen next time if they were outnumbered? It was inevitable. While another attack so soon seemed unlikely, every creak of the hardwood floor had them all reaching for the nearest weapon. But when the door finally pushed open, it was to make way for a friend, not a foe.

"Missed me?" Dyson called, looking perplexed by the gloomy tableau they formed. 

Kenzi's heart skipped a beat before soaring to her throat, cartoon-style. She had resolved to play it cool, were he to ever show up unharmed, but now that he was almost at arm's reach, the thought didn't even register.

"D-man!" she all but screamed, racing to hug him tightly. "I'm so glad you're back."


End file.
